Collision: The Reboot
by crowskisses
Summary: Rewrite of Collision: Michael's past as Rath starts to catch up to him and past betrayals begin reappearing. History always has a way of repeating itself, or can a new life, new planet and new friends prevent it this time? Michael/Maria.
1. Chapter 1

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing (no characters, etc.), but the imagined events on Antar.

Summary: Michael's past as Rath starts to catch up to him and past betrayals begin reappearing. Rewrite of Collision.

Author's Note: Set in the beginning of Season 2 when the Skins are around, as well as Courtney. It took 8 years, but the day has finally come where I'm redoing this story, with a lot better grammar, spell check and likely some major changes, especially around Antar. Here is the rewrite of parts 1 -3.

Part 1: The Spark

Everyone knows her story, it has become legend. It has been written in the stars. The whole galaxy knows how Vilandra betrayed her fiancée, family and her race but few know of Rath's story. His, possibly the greatest betrayal of all, remains secret only known to a select few. It runs deeper and darker than Vilandra's ever could have. Rath's choices changed a pattern that had begun when the stars first began to flicker. XonRath son of Tuluk betrayed the Gods for a love that was never meant to be. This is the story of how Rath's betrayals will rock the world of his predecessor.

The day dawned like any other over a small desert town in New Mexico. The sun rose at a leisurely pace unaware of the changes his cycle might see during the course of the day. Or perhaps he knew and rose slowly so as to give a more moments of blessed peace before lives would change irrevocably.

Michael Guerin's sleep was troubled; his dreams filled with ominous foreboding that would carry over into his waking hours. Whether this prescience came from his alien-genie powers or merely the human's sixth sense he would never know. He began his Saturday like any other; sleep in late, breakfast, some TV then off to work the afternoon to closing shift at the Crashdown.

Locking his apartment door a flicker of something stirring in breeze caught his eye. Michael reached over to his windowsill and picked up the snakeskin like wafer thin substance. It disintegrated away in his hands. His eyes narrowed and he spat, "The Skins are getting closer."

Michael Guerin entered the Crashdown to find Maria muttering about wearing stupid antennae headbands and fixing the offensive object upon her head to her liking using her locker mirror. Michael walked over to his own locker without greeting, cutting straight to the point. "Maria, I don't want you going out alone anymore. The skins are getting closer. I found a shedding outside my apartment this morning."

"I'm not alien, they're not interested in me." _You're not interested in me, why do you care?_ "Have you told the others yet?" Maria began sulkily, but finished on a curious note.

"Not yet, tonight after closing." He slammed his locker, still not looking at her.

"I have plans," Maria said, though she really didn't. She merely wanted to avoid a post-Destiny awkward tension charged meeting.

"So change them," Michael snapped.

Before she could reply in sauntered Courtney. "Hey, Mikey G. Looking good today."

"You're on the clock, Courtney. Go outside and be a good little waitress," Maria snapped.

Something darkened in Courtney's blue eyes, something that ran deeper than a passing dislike. "I'm on my break. Didn't your shift just start?"

Maria rolled her eyes, doing an exaggerated saunter out into the dining room to mock Courtney. It went unnoticed, she grabbed a pot of coffee and headed towards where Max and Isabel were sitting. "Michael wants to see everyone after we close."

"For what?" Isabel asked, smoothing down the dress she was wearing, she did actually have plans.

Maria filled up Max's cup, with an eye roll. "What else? Impending doom and people with really really bad skin."

….

It was a fairly slow part of the night. The dinner crowd was starting to thin out, leaving only a handful of customers and a booth full of teens. In the booth sat Max, Isabel, Alex, Kyle and Tess quietly discussing their enemy. Again. It was always the same, no new information, but they circled the topic like a dead horse, while they waited for the rest of the customers to clear out. Kyle still wasn't completely comfortable with the group, still fairly disturbed by the idea that that 4 of his classmates were more than just out of towners. Alex was the easiest to relate to, the one who understood the most what it was like to have the rug ripped out from under you, understood what it was like to be a few months late to the "I know an alien" club. Plus, they both liked Buffy and Alex's house had better air conditioning during the summer. He spoke up anyway, his nerves making the words come out of his mouth tend towards the stupid, "So they're scaly, right? Can't we just, like, buy all of the lotion in Roswell and they'll flake away?"

Max blinked once, not sure if he was joking or serious. "I'm talking about real possibilities, Kyle."

Kyle shrugged, taking another sip of his shake. He'd contributed something at least this time. Alex seemed to spark, "Wait, Max. Kyle might be onto something: maybe I can hack the grocery store checkout records or something? We can see who is buying more lotion than normal to try and get some suspects…"

Isabel gave Alex a smile that warmed him down to his toes, "It's the start of a plan, anyway."

Liz watched a small child spill his third cup of juice and sighed, not wanting to leave the table she was cleaning, listening to the other conversation. "Maria, we're almost out of napkins here. Can you to the back and get some more?"

"No problem, chica."

Maria walked into the back and grabbed a pack of napkins humming a nameless tune. On her way out of the storeroom she was passing through the break room when suddenly the hair on the back of her arms stood up. She was grabbed roughly from behind and a large, peeling hand was clamped over her mouth. Maria felt herself pulled taut against a large body and the pressure of a cool, sharp metal pressed against her throat.

As reality began to come crashing down upon her stunned countenance she felt her body begin to erupt in fine, uncontrollable tremors. Her scattered, terrified thoughts began racing through her mind. "He's gonna kill me! Liz will be devastated. What about my mom? I should have listened to Michael. I can't die, I'm too young. Virgins never die in the horror movies! OMG."

Maria felt herself start to hyperventilate, but her inner turmoil was abruptly cut off by the sound of a gruff voice and a roaming hand. As he spoke his hand idly roamed Maria's sides, stopping only for a squeeze of her chest. "I have a message for your King. Tell him his end is near and this time it will be permanent. Tell _Your Majesty_, that if he gives us the Granolith we will spare the humans. This is his only warning."

Maria's eyes widened as she comprehended what his final statement meant as she felt him take a mighty thrust and impale the dagger deep into her stomach. Her mouth moved in a silent "Oh" as her hands clutched and unclenched the napkins she was grasping before letting them fall to the floor. Maria felt him give her a final shove and her shaky legs collapse underneath her. Maria could barely comprehend any of this through the haze of pain that was constantly rising in her body. She rolled onto her back and felt hot sticky blood seeping through her uniform, in exactly the same spot Liz Parker was shot a year ago. She'd always hated irony.

"Help." Maria's voice was too low to have even qualified for a whisper. Dying not as she'd lived: brightly and the center of attention, but quietly and unnoticed, as though she had drifted through life without making a mark. Her thoughts drifted to how she would look in her coffin, young and beautiful. To what music they would play at her funeral.

"Help." She whispered again, trying to push herself up and finding her arms couldn't hold her weight, her hands sliding in the blood on the floor. Her head smacked with a thud, her thoughts becoming even more scattered with the impact, the only coherent thought left: _There was no music at my last burial. _

….

Michael was busy flipping burgers when his earlier feelings of unease started to creep up on him. He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts; it was no use. He decided it was time for a break. "Liz, I'm taking my break" Michael yelled.

"Fine, will you see what's taking Maria so long to get the napkins first?" Liz's voice was distracted, the hint of annoyance making it sharp.

Michael sighed; he really didn't want to deal with Maria right now. "Fine." He walked into the back room taking his apron off. "Maria? Liz needs those nap…MARIA!"

Michael felt all of the blood drain from his heart at the sight before him. There was Maria splayed on the floor in a growing pool of her own blood. Her skin was deathly pale and her hands congregated over a wound. A wound where there was a knife protruding out of her stomach. Her long hair was fanned out around her like Ophelia's. The only object not coated with blood was ironically, the stack of napkins.

He immediately dropped down to the floor next to her. "Maria? Maria? Baby, I'm sorry.. You've got to open your eyes." Her eyes didn't even flutter and Michael felt his control spiral quickly away as all the lights in the restaurant exploded and lockers flew open.

"Maria?!" He shook her wildly, something old and screaming starting to claw its way awake in him, rolling over in a blind, never ending terror. He was pleading with her, "Maria, you can't leave me."

_You can't leave me again, _the dark, always bleeding part of him cried out, reaching for her too.

….

5 heartbeats passed before Liz burst into the back and stopped short, her eyes adjusting to the new darkness, "Michael the lights went out. What happened? Oh my God, Maria!"

To her dying day Liz would never forget the sight that met her eyes that September day. Maria, her friend, her sister in everything except blood; her frister lay dying in a tacky alien outfit drenched in her own blood. The scene was oddly reminiscent of her own near death experience. Liz's breath caught: Michael Guerin, once known for being dark, intense and very detached, now had desperate tears stealing passage down his devastated face. His body shook willing Maria to him with incoherent mumblings of her name and pleads to open her eyes. Michael's eyes glanced up and met hers, not really seeing her: in that instant Liz saw the end of the world. Emotions so deep and intense that Liz couldn't even begin to identify them as swirled through his darkening eyes.

"Get Max," he spat out.

Liz turned and fled.

They we're talking and laughing. Kyle had managed to turn the looping conversation from aliens to Buddha, lightening the somber mood to one more of his liking Courtney came by and asked, "What's so funny?"

Isabel rolled her eyes and sighed before answering. "Kyle was enlightening us to our personalities according to Buddha."

"Ah," pause, "Well do y'all need anything else while I give my order to Mikey G?"

"No."

Alex shook his head as Courtney sauntered off, "She better back off of Mikey G, if she knows what's good for her. Maria will rip her head off and eat it for breakfast if she keeps it up."

Before anyone had time to reply the lights suddenly exploded causing everyone to duck. After a second Max stood up, the king in him rising. "Everyone OK?"

"Yeah. It's probably just a blown fuse," but Kyle's unsure voice lacked conviction.

"We should probably check on Michael, too." Isabel started at the same time Max began to talk. Before she could finish Liz ran up to them with tears about to burst from her eyes.

"Max, come quick..."

"Liz slow down, tell me what's wrong," Max began as Liz started to drag him away, her tears beginning to fall.

"No time. Maria's dying and...Michael...Michael is losing it."

….

Far far away in a lonely, dark throne room a king's head snapped up at a flicker he felt, his heart thumping once, then twice out of beat. Some bonds could never be broken: they were wound too tight into souls, bound unbreakably into the fabric of their wearer's lives. He rose, his steps still measured despite the hurry he felt to find who he sought. The oracle wasn't hard to locate, sitting in his usual spot in the old music room, idly holding a book of prophecy that bound so many lives. Ruined so many lives, changed them, led them. Arhal looked up at him, "So you felt it, too?"

Kivar nodded mutely, not meeting the Oracle's gaze. There was too much pain there, too much guilt on Kivar's side over the choices he had made, the mistakes some would call them. "What does it mean?"

The oracle looked down at the book he held again, "Rath is rising, perhaps the rest as well."

"And…" Kivar swallowed over his suddenly dry throat, he'd hoped and waited for this day and dreaded it at the same time, another swallow, "and her?"

Arhal shut his eyes, "It begins again, Kivar. Will you play your part differently, I wonder?"

Kivar looked away, his eyes catching on the guitar, wondering whether it was a beginning so much as an ending.

...

He was on his knees holding her tightly; their faces were inches apart. Maria's eyes were barely open, locked onto Michael's. Her lips were moving with more blood leaving her mouth at every whispered word. They were connected, in a state between life and death, this life and the last. They were held there by power, by love, by resentment and by fear.

Michael's heart was racing but he wasn't aware of it. Moments seemed to stretch into eternity, an eternity where only Michael and Maria existed. He pulled her closer and their breaths mingled this scene, this frozen moment of her dying slowly in his arms and him unable to stop it all felt so familiar. As if they'd been through it many times, it was in a way inescapable.

He felt his stonewall, all his shields drop away as they connected. They were one, a complete whole being, a broken one, but a whole one. Michael was filled with a feeling of completeness and desperation to keep this feeling.

Maria was trying to speak, "It's always been-" she was struggling to speak, coughs full of blood stopping the words from coming out fully. Michael watched as her pupils darkened to black and expanded past normal human limitations. He knew looking into her eyes he wasn't just looking at Maria anymore. He felt the changes in him at her words, doors coming unlocked and memories that weren't entirely his pushing to the surface.

His voice cracked with emotion and with a timber to deep to be purely Michael's, "Shhh, don't waste your strength. Zan is coming."

They were lost in an old connection, their souls singing in harmony as they relived another time, another place, another death.

…

A collective gasp rose as they all headed for the break room. The break room was in total chaos; loose items (magazines, shoes) were swirling around the room in a circular motion and the TV had exploded. In the center of the impromptu tornado were Michael and Maria. He was on his knees holding her tightly; their faces were centimeters apart. Maria's eyes were barely open, locked on his and her struggles to speak were interrupted by blood. His tears were dripping on her face.

Max had never seen Michael like this, and hoped to God that he never did again. He rushed over to Maria, shoving his horror and anxiety down deep. Her eyes weren't right, her aura showing something deeper, but Max didn't have time for that. He went into healing mode. "I need the knife out once I'm connected. Not too soon or she'll bleed out before I can heal her."

Liz nodded, swallowed the knot that formed in her throat and determinedly gripped the knife, someone put a steadying hand on her back. Max concentrated on forming a connection but Michael was already connected leaving no room for him. Glancing up he saw Michael's tears dripping on Maria's face as he kissed her. Max grabbed his arm and instantly, without any barriers, connected through Michael. He felt Maria's pain, their pain, as Liz ripped the knife out. He started the healing process mending the wound and transferring energy from himself and Michael to stimulate production of more blood. A strange, haunting music filled his ears then he was lost to the flashes.

…..

Max wasn't sure if the memory was Michael's or Maria's but he was sure that it wasn't from this lifetime. She was beautiful, in an unearthly, gossamer way, but beautiful all the same. Her hair was unbound and seemed to move of its own accord. It floated and twisted around itself forming a fiery cloud around her body, all the way to her hips. What was more striking than her beauty was her voice; it pealed in pure joy. A laughter so true and filled with her honest emotions that it instantly lifted his, their, spirits. She was a nightingale with a voice that could make the stars weep or planets dance in exultation. It was a voice that could keep no emotions secret. "Rath? We've got to go see Zan."

"Zan can wait for once." Max felt the voice coming from himself: the memory must be Michael's he realized.

"But I can't wait." Her voice was barely a whisper so full of desolation and denial that his world shook to its very foundations. He reached out, as if in slow motion, to catch her falling figure.

"Q! What's wrong? You can't leave me." Rath eased her down, reveling in the softness of her skin with worry evident in the deep tones of his voice.

"Everyone leaves me.." he spoke it so softly, merely as an afterthought. But it meant much much more to him.

...The flash changed quickly...

She was confused Michael was disconcerting her. He was so annoying and confusing and she was utterly curious. "All right, how about just one personal question? You know, since I didn't turn you in back there. Why is it so important to you to find out where you come from?"

Maria was holding her breath, unsure if he would answer and afraid of what he would say. She felt something coming and it felt familiar.

"Because there's gotta be something better out there for me than Roswell, New Mexico." He sounded like it was the last thing he wanted to be admitting, especially to her.

An excited giggle escaped her lips before she could stop it. Somebody finally understood her in a way that Liz and Alex never could.

"You think that's funny?" He sounded ticked and maybe even a little wounded.

"No, no. It's just, um...when I was a kid, I used to stay up at night and, um, make up stories about my father...you know, and who he was and...what he was doing. And they all ended exactly the same way. He would come in a limo and pick me and my mom up and take us off to some exotic place where we'd live like royalty. Because, you know...I thought to myself...there's got to be something better out there for me than Roswell, New Mexico." She was surprised she'd just told him all of that. Wasn't this the guy she was terrified of just a few days ago, she felt that fear slip away with the understanding they shared. She saw him give her a grin, for once not guarded or sardonic.

...The flash changed again...

"You shouldn't be here, Rath." She said looking through the window that separated them. He was dark, there was no other way to describe him. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes, dark personality. Her mind, their mind, flashed to words she'd once heard used to describe the Commander. "A long time ago, many many cycles of the sun before we were civilized the Commander, in a past life of course, angered the Gods. So now wherever he walks toe Sun refuses to shine on his countenance." She could see why the masses feared him slightly.

"You don't belong here.." her resolve was weakening under his dark stare.

"Neither do you." It was the truth, no humor lurking in his half smile.

She opened the window.

...One final flash before the healing was complete...

She was driving him insane with all her babbling that he couldn't stop tapping. He should be the one meeting River Dog not Max and certainly not Liz.

"I.. I hate you!" she exploded.

"Ditto!" He was going crazy watching her glossy lips move like that. Michael was secretly proud he could drive her to such extremes.

"You know, all I ask of you is just to try to make me feel better, you know, be a guy or whatever. Forget it. I have obviously tried to bark up the wrong tree."

She was barking up the wrong tree. He wasn't good with words; he vibrated. He watched her walk away, impulses, desire, rising up within him. He hopped from the counter without a thought, it was like he couldn't control himself. Spinning her around he kissed her. All his frustration and pent up emotions came crashing through a collision of lips.

"That was to calm you down." What had he just started? And why did it fell so damn good?

…..

Liz watched anxiously as Max healed Maria, the bloody dagger dangling forgotten in her hand. She watched as sweat formed on Max's brow and listened as he grunted. She couldn't tell if it was working through all the blood. She needed to let some of her emotions out, to break this horrible silence of waiting they were stuck in. "I'm worried about Maria. Who would have done this to her?"

Nobody noticed the door from the restaurant creak open and a blond head poke in. Alex engulfed Liz in a hug, rubbing her back reassuringly and taking the bloody dagger from her. They all stopped short at the sight in front of them. An image, superimposed itself above Maria and Michael for a minute. A very alien image. It was too fast to make out except for the glint of a circlet and a flash of long hair from the ground and the shine of a weapon, and glint of rings, at the side of the dark male. Isabel's eyes narrowed, "What the hell? Michael!"

They all stared at the three figures clustered on the ground afraid it would happen again and terrified it wouldn't. Courtney's eyes widened in horror and understanding as she stared at where the image had been. She slipped away quietly to confirm her growing suspicions.

"What was that? I thought Maria was human." Kyle asked, taking a step back.

Max sat up gasping, dripping in sweat. Michael was stroking Maria's face. Maria didn't open her eyes or stir at all. Nobody moved for a moment.

"Is she.." Liz could barely get the words out, but had to know.

"She'll be fine, just needs to rest and produce some more blood. She'll wake up in awhile I think." Max answered, leaning back, exhausted.

Tears over spilled Liz's eyes as she reached for Maria and caught a territorial glance from Michael, who was meticulously smoothing her hair away from her face. Liz ignored him and reached out to touch the spot where the knife had been. Michael knocked her hand away, "You'll hurt her."

"Michael, your not the only one who cares about Maria. So deal. The girls are going take her into the bathroom and clean her up before we take her somewhere to rest. You're going to clean up this room and shut down the restaurant." Liz exploded then went into a 'take control of the situation' mode.

"I'll clean her up and take her to my apartment." He said getting up and stalking towards the bathroom with Maria protectively cradled in his arms.

Liz and Isabel quickly followed and as soon as he set her down Isabel used her powers to force him out of the room and shut the door. "I don't think Maria wants you seeing her unclothed yet."

"Fuck you." Was the only response heard through the door followed by the sound of a fist hitting the wall.

Michael glared around the room once he'd calmed, finding it in action. Tess was fixing the TV and Kyle was picking up various items strewn around the room. Max was washing his hands. Michael's eyes landed on the spot where she had almost died. There was so much blood, blood everywhere and on everything. He couldn't take it. Too many emotions, too much blood, too much history. He grabbed the nearest trashcan and began to retch. Over and over again he emptied his stomach. He felt Tess rubbing his back and heard her murmuring, "It will all be all right. Shhh, let it out."

It will all be all right was a lie and he knew it.

….

Courtney wandered around lost in thought. She was pondering what she'd just seen in the Crashdown and how, if it were true, it would change everything. Her mind drifted to Antar and to the Chosen who were so integral to the planet's religion and interplanetary politics. They were sent directly from the Gods, no birth, no original sin, just children of about six cycles who wandered in from the Holy Lands to the West. It was where they'd gotten the idea of how to protect the royal four. The Chosen were immediately recognizable to all that beheld them by their strange, almost reflective eyes and strikingly red hair. On Antar there had been ten Chosen living when the troubled times began. They were odd, too odd and too recognizable to ever blend in. Some were odder than most, but they who were supposed to help a planet could never really experience what everyone else did, Courtney had always thought it was a pity. They were gifted, each had a special gift to give to the planet and each came with a mission or a message. Jonreh, the Elemental, could control the weather and was sent to warn Antar from trying to use a neighboring star as their experimental site.

Courtney had always been awed by them, by the ease at which they stood out and the ease that they could unite people or tear them asunder. Few people on Antar had that presence about them, a presence that books no room for argument. The Commander had possessed it, possessed the background and character to unite their fractured world but he had stood by his King and died an unnecessary death. He'd caused a lot of unnecessary deaths, in her mind, if he had taken power Kivar wouldn't have caused civil war, a war that still enveloped their world because not everyone would follow Kivar. If she could only get Michael back to Antar he'd fix everything, she knew, he'd fix the family that'd been torn asunder by war. Her world would be perfect once again. It's why she hated Maria so much; she stood in the way of Michael ever leaving this wretched planet.

If Maria had a past life as one of the Chosen then that would alter Skins plans radically, they couldn't lay a hair on her once blessed head or by relation the Royal Four if they were so favored by the Gods as to have had a Chosen one sent with them to earth. Courtney walked into the meeting place, an apartment across the street from Michael's. It had a perfect view to see what was going on inside his apartment. Or could they?

…

They were all seated or standing in Michael's dinky living room. Maria was settled, still sleeping, in a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor. Kyle hurried in the door as the last member to arrive having stopped off at the sheriff's station. He looked at Maria, furrowed his brows and said "So why is Maria on the floor.. instead of in the bed one room over?"

"Because for now nobody is alone, not for a second." Max stated.

"And because Michael won't let Maria out of his line of sight." Isabel chimed in, secretly loving seeing Michael caring so much about someone.

"We need to call Nacedo this is out of our league, " Tess began.

"Are we sure its alien related and not just some crazy?" Alex asked, even he could hear the hope in his voice. Silence prevailed for a moment. Max looked at Michael.

"Either way we need to call him. There are other developments he needs to be aware of." Max's voice rang with authority he didn't feel.

"What developments?"

Was that a note of hysteria in Liz's voice, Max wondered. How did he say something that would break the bonds that had begun to reform today after Destiny tore them apart. Would, 'Well, Maria just joined the 'I had a past life on an alien planet which makes me a huge target for some race of enemies club'' cut it. He didn't think so. He was saved from answering, by a stirring from the floor. She was mumbling in her sleep and abruptly sat up, peaked open her eyes and looked directly at Michael. It was one helluva look. She rose trancelike to her feet with her blanket trailing behind her and still mumbling wandered over to Michael. Maria, with a barely intelligible mumble of "sleep with you, feel better.." curled up against him, settling herself partially in his lap with her blanket and promptly resumed sleeping; returning to whatever dream she'd been having. Michael glared at all of them daring them to say anything all the while settling her in. Once he had her settled, he looked up, scratching one eyebrow. "Turns out Maria and I have more history than just this past year."

A stunned silence followed Michael's announcement. Max broke in, "Right, I'm going to call Nacedo now shall I?"

…...

Maria dreamed, she dreamed of a life not her own in a time already past. She dreamed of eyes always following her, of never feeling comfortable or at home. She dreamed of noises she didn't recognize and a time filled with subterfuge and sacrifice. She saw eyes that would never see her for who she was, only for what she represented. But mostly she dreamed of eyes that saw her soul through and through, eyes filled with an aching that matched her own.

Maria dreamed of a life she wasn't supposed to remember, a life she didn't want herself to remember. She needed to live in the present not the past, because the past always has baggage. And part of that baggage is trouble.

…...

Courtney sauntered into the meeting place hiding her agitation. Her mind was whirling, that Maria girl couldn't possibly have lived before she's just too…. too scatterbrained. Though it might explain Michael's preference of her whiny voice to Courtney's own.

"Nicholas, I have news. Bad news."

"What can possibly be characterized as bad news?" He didn't even look up from the folder he was flipping through.

Oh, she hated the little snake. "When Max was healing Maria, a death scene from Antar showed up."

"Maria is blonde. Garth I told you to get the brunette waitress." Oh, Nicholas was angry now, his snapping turtle temper popping. Garth had just ruined it.

"I prefer blondes. She was hot. It all worked out."

"And I prefer people who follow orders. Once more and I kill you myself. Painfully." Garth gulped, Good. He needed to remember that just because Nicholas had a kid's body he wasn't a child. On Antar he was feared, a warrior who'd committed more sins than anyone but one man in Antar's history.

"What's the big deal? So Rath's memories popped up. We know the girl is completely human from her samples." Ida was curious, but not particularly invested.

Vanessa Whitaker sighed, "Should I have to teach you your own history? Before we left Antar one of the Chosen died. She was rumored to have been secretly involved with Rath."

"Rath, the frozen. Which Chosen? Two of the girls died within weeks of each other. They said it was the start of the dark ages…" Garth was very curious now, holding back a shudder.

"The Siren. If you all remember her soul never merged with the conscious like it should have, even though she was before her akino. I remember the eulogy saying that the Gods took her away because they were upset about the war."

"The Gods didn't retrieve her soul. I killed her." Nicholas scoffed.

A shocked disgusted silence held throughout the room. He'd killed one of the sacred ones, it was unheard of. It was a crime beyond repenting. Good, they were scared that would make them easier to control.

"You're saying you killed one of the purest things on our planet, you killed our religion. You murdered someone holy..." Disgust and fear showed in Garth's eyes, his hands tracing the hourglass figure over himself. Garth was no warrior, he'd just wanted off that war torn planet.

"She wasn't pure anymore by the time I killed her." Ida gagged, horror beyond comprehension was reflected in the faces flanking Nicholas.

"Nicholas she was only a child!" Ida began to lecture him while fingering her necklace, a whirlwind pendant. Ida had always been very religious ever since she'd seen a priestess heal her brother's soul.

"Don't look so scandalized. I wasn't the one who broke the rules and de-purified her." Nicholas was enjoying this. Confusion swept the room.

"Who.. who would deprive the world of her soul by coupling with her before her akino?" Garth sounded truly confused, poor, simple Garth.

"Rath. The Commander always took what he wanted regardless of the consequences." Courtney felt the breath leave her. Her world was askew, could it be true? Would he do such a thing to his own people. Would he do such a thing to his family? His fiancé?

"Regardless, we can't hurt her now especially if she is favored by the Gods. Or the Royal Four if the Gods sent one of the Chosen with them. It's blasphemous." Ida continued on vitally ignoring the fact that she wasn't a pure being. Courtney wondered the same thing, why would the Gods send her to the same place as Rath if he did what Nicholas said?

"You will all follow orders, regardless of religious influence. Understood?"

Their mouths said yes but their eyes told a different tale, religion has driven masses to revolt, the ties of religion are often stronger than the ties of allegiance. Many leaders have learned this lesson the hard way. And history always repeats itself.

….

Maria opened her eyes to find herself curled up against Michael with a group of people anxiously staring at her. She was groggy and confused at the sudden scrutiny she was receiving. Liz spoke first, "Are you OK? I was sooo worried about you, chica."

It all came flooding back to her in one horrible moment. The stabbing, the healing. Michael. Her head whipped around to look at him, their eyes met, he was different, it was all different now. "I'm fine, but, um, before the guy tried to skewer me," she felt his arms tighten around her, "he gave me a message for Max."

Six pairs of eyes turned to glare at Max. "What was it? What exactly happened?" He didn't really want to know because it could only be dangerous to them all.

"Well first I was super startled and thought was Michael trying to prove a point about not being alone. But the guy was waay too beefy, like Popeye, to be Michael. He grabbed me from behind and I started to freak out. Like really freak out." Her voice was starting to raise and her pulse quicken.

"Maria, calm down its ok." It was Liz, Liz was always there to ground her.

"Ok, ok. He held the knife to my throat and started to grope me," the arms tightened once more, "and told me he had a message for the King. They want the granolith and they'll spare the humans. I was the warning." Silence prevailed in the room.

"Why can't you aliens be fucking dangerous in like a Disney movie way? I mean this is bad horror movie my life on the line ri-fucking-diculous." Kyle exploded. Oddly enough it broke the tension.

Tess grinned, "A Disney movie, huh Kyle? Didn't know Bambi was dangerous to Buddha." He gave a sheepish grin and with an unspoken understanding Michael and Maria moved to the bedroom to talk.

"Did you see them, those memories?" Maria began, her hands wringing. She'd noticed someone had gotten the blood off of them, staring intently at her now clean nails.

"Yeah."

"So we like have a past, on your planet." She was nervous, he could tell. He had to hold to his resolve, or she would be hurt again.

"It can't change anything between us…"

"Michael, things are changed."

"I can't let you get hurt. God, Maria I was terrified I was sobbing. I can't. I won't let you get hurt because of me. Especially not after today, it proves how dangerous I am. We can't be involved."

"Too late, Michael," she was poking him in the chest now, "I'm involved in the alien abyss now more than ever. In case you're slow we just discovered I'm involved now more than ever, with aliens, with Antar, with you. Apparently, we were together last time, don't you think it must have been something if I'm here and you're here."

"No, Maria. We cannot get involved." He began, no falter in his resolution.

She cut him off. "Michael, we share a past. An alien past. Your not allowed to have fucking commitment problems anymore."

Liz walked in, "Everything alright? It was getting kinda loud."

"Fine. We're coming back out." Liz turned and left.

"I won't let you die because of me." Eyes that darkened for a moment, hellfire in his gaze. "Not again. When it's safe we'll talk about it." He left the room.

She watched him go, her heart clenching painfully at his words. She didn't remember all of her dreams, wasn't sure if she wanted to. She was sure it wasn't ever going to be really safe.


	2. Part 2: Gasoline

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Own nothing.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews and all of the follows :) This is also being posted at Candy is Dandy! Things are starting to change in this part, the first big plot twist coming up in part 3!

Part 2: Gasoline

Nacedo got to Roswell as fast as he could, considering the trials that were going on disassembling the special unit. He'd been answering questions for days, twisting answers to his will and wasn't looking forward to doing it again for a much more important purpose. He'd hoped to have been able to guide the Royal Four the way he had Tess, in a controlled setting where the memories stayed mostly buried, only teaching them enough to access blurry memories of their previous lives, not allowing them to feel what they had that felt before. Those feelings, those choices had led to the end of reign and downfall of Antar.

Now, from the brief conversation he'd had with Max, Nacedo could only hope that the Skins weren't aware of Michael's human pet's Godly blessings. Nacedo had always known that Rath's sordid past would come out sooner or later, it wasn't as widely known Antar as Vilandra's was. He had hoped later for Destiny's sake, for Antar's sake. He walked to Michael's apartment and knocked, taking the familiar form of Tess's father. There was a pause, the sound of someone moving towards the door and peeking through the peep hole.

"Come in."

Nacedo entered to find Michael holding the Destiny book staring hard at its pages. He glanced up and gave a look that could be interpreted as anything. "Max is at the Crashdown keeping an eye on Maria and Liz. Everyone else should be there too."

"So why did you want me to meet you here first?"

"There are things not everyone needs to know. My questions." Ah yes, Rath and his secrecy, Michael was more like his predecessor than Nacedo could have hoped. Some old habits die hard, or don't die at all.

"You can ask, I may or may not answer." Michael quirked an eyebrow at Nacedo's response, he expected nothing less.

"Vilandra and I were both involved with other people." Or that is what Michael meant to say, but what he actually came out with was, "Did she die because of me?"

Nacedo watched Michael wince and with his empty eyes boring into Michael's responded. "Not because of you, no. She died for many reasons. She died for you, for herself, for your bond and she died because of politics. Nkyot would have killed her regardless of your involvement, that was just a perk."

"Why would he have killed her?" The words had done nothing to assuage Michael's guilt or change his views on whether a relationship with Maria was acceptable. Part of him flashed in rage at the name, the part he was trying so desperately to keep buried.

"Because she was siding with the Royal Four. Siding with you and she was convincing, many many others to side with your forces as well. Not purposefully and not strongly enough to make a difference…yet, but the time was coming where she would have fully shifted the tide. Nkyot and Kivar couldn't accept the losses or the damage it was doing to their movement."

Something twitched on Michael's face at the mention of Kivar, but he pushed it away, the reactions to Kivar and Nkyot's names different and the same. He stumbled over the unfamiliar, yet all too familiar, words. "Was she a priestess of some sort?"

"Something like that. I can tell you no more." Nacedo kept steel in his words, the firmness that he would tell him no more: the less they knew, the less likely they were to make the same mistakes this time around.

"How are we supposed to protect ourselves when we don't know anything?" Michael was seething, barely containing the anger that was threatening to explode. He was even angrier these days, as if his anger had a power of its own behind it.

"I'm supposed to protect you and I know how, you're job is to be protected and try to stay out of trouble." Annoyance flashed on Michael's face at the answer, he needed nobody's protection.

"One last question. Why did you like to us about Destiny? Clearly that was not what was going on."

"And your dalliances got you killed and started a war." Not necessarily true, but Michael didn't need to know that.

"That's not why the war started. Isabel is no Helen of Troy." But Nacedo saw the doubt starting to creep into his eyes. Good. They walked the rest of the way in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts of another time. Michael's were blurred and fragmented, the only thing clear was the unrelenting anger that boiled mostly out of conscious reach. Mostly.

…

Nicholas wasn't worried, but he was disconcerted, this changed the plan meant he would have to inform Kivar before one of Kivar's rats did. He sighed and began the preparations for the portal: it was always better to give news like this in person, even if his presence wasn't necessarily wanted. He walked into the desert where no prying eyes would see. He took the small device out of his pocket and threw it into the air causing the portal to open above him sucking up everything into the rift of space. Nicholas hated portal travel and the disorientation that always occurred with it, but he let himself get sucked up anyway.

He appeared in the castle in an empty room set up specifically for receiving portal travelers. Nicholas walked out of the room after a moment of regaining his bearings. Two guards dropped into step two paces behind him. He quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing, everyone on Antar knew was the last person to need guards after he killed the Royal Four. The wars must not be going well, he reasoned, and he was stuck on Earth on a quest for a useless quest to contain 4 humans with blurred memories. He knew he could win all the wars if he wanted to, and was allowed to but Kivar wanted to reason with them so that he could have allies. The reasoning was not going well, Kivar's dreams of truly uniting Antar turning out to be very difficult. Ruthless, naïve Kivar who'd fought for a crown and not known what to do with it once he had it on his head.

Nicholas walked, strutted, into the throne room. Kivar was sitting in the throne wearing a crown he had made. It was less ostentatious than its predecessor and held none of Antar's power, but the rebels had the true crown of Antar and Kivar was yet to find it. The crown was what held the true power: blessed by the Gods and anointed afresh at each Coronation it held the powers of protection a blessing of peace. Without it Kivar would always be seen as an illegitimate ruler by his people. Kivar's reign relied only on his own power, formidable, but not, alas, enough.

"My highness, I come with a report." It still felt odd to call Kivar that, to call one of his oldest friends by yet another name. K18, brother, friend, they had been those things once.

"Proceed, Nkyot." Kivar was cold, his gold eyes shut down to any vestiges of past friendship.

"One of the Royal Four's humans is _possibly_ a reincarnation of one of the Chosen." Kivar's face shifted slightly at the news, but he did not look shocked, more resigned.

Kivar shifted his position, lounging, taking up the space as if he owned it, an old trick from training. Almost boredom colored the golden tones, his mask still intact without any inkling of surprise except a sigh, "The Siren, I'm assuming?" Nicholas nodded and Kivar continued. "She always did show up when she wasn't supposed to….The public can't know of this. Ever." Kivar drummed his fingers on the seat, musing. "It would strengthen the rebellion tenfold and we could even lose our alliance with Kathor."

"Yes sir, the results would be devastating. You know how overly religious the public is and with the Granolith still half missing..." Nkyot agreed easily enough, Kivar's observations running along the veins of his own thoughts.

"How did she get to that blasted planet?" Kivar was more curious than angry; perhaps this could work in his favor. Or at the very least he could kill whoever sent her and keep the secret. He already had enough deaths against his soul to prevent a happy ending.

"You heard the rumors that Rath had a paramour to whom he was loyal to like he was loyal to Zan…. The Siren of Antar." Nkyot drew it out, knowing full well that Kivar had known: had tried to stop the plans he'd set in motion because of it. All of their entwined loyalties had woven a web so complicated where the only way out was many deaths.

Kivar's gold gaze burned into Nkyot's, an old anger not hidden. "I'm well aware of Rath's history, Second. I was part of most if it…I wanted to know if someone here sent her soul there or if was the Gods."

Nicholas dropped the smile from his face, the answer almost sullen. "She's completely human, not genetically modified like the others."

Kivar nodded, again unsurprised. He mused aloud, going back to a plan he'd tried before. "What to do? What to do? I could use her voice, her charm to get peace agreements signed. Returning the Lost Chosen would do well by me. It would show that the Gods approve of my reign. We'll have to consider that, but begin by dealing with Rath. He's the threat, especially if he's attacked…Is he…is he involved with her?"

"They seem to be keeping their distance this time around." Something passed through Kivar's gold eyes at that, relief perhaps? Or maybe it was guilt, or a thousand other things. "Shall I kill him again?" Oh Nicholas hoped so, he hated Rath with a passion bordering on obsession. It's why he agreed to go to Earth in the first place.

"No." The answer was immediate, hadn't killing him once been enough? "That would risk the Siren. Separate the Royals, turn them against each other and disrupt the relationship he has with sweet, quiet, Q." There was pain in the words, a weight Kivar had carried for a long, long time, but politics was politics.

Not as good as death, but this could still be fun. Rath would wish for death when he was done with him. Nicholas gave a catlike grin, "As you will it, Sire."

Nicholas turned to go, glancing at the other throne as he did, at the picture and the lone flower sitting on it. A dream Kivar refused to let die, a bond he clung to. Kivar's voice stilled him, "How is _she_?"

She. There was only one she with Kivar and her name didn't start with a Q. Vilandra: betrayer, seductress, manipulator: the woman who still held the heart of the man on the throne.

"She's well." Nicholas stated carefully, "Not dating as much, but not following destiny either."

Kivar nodded and with a hand wave dismissed him. Nkyot watched Kivar's eyes drift to the other throne, the beginning of a brooding pout touching his face and almost smiled. Kivar had grown soft and Nicholas hadn't…he'd grown harder, even more ruthless during his time on earth.

…..

The break room was tense, filled with nervous and tightly wound occupants. Max was pacing, Kyle leaning against the lockers, Alex playing solitaire on the table, Isabel idly flipping through a magazine not really seeing the pages, Tess was staring hard at the symbols from the cave, Liz trying to work on the schedule wheel but sneaking glances at Max, while Maria was curled up writing something.

It was quiet for a moment when Michael and Nacedo came in through the back door. Nacedo smiled at Tess, "No new members of the 'I know an alien club'? Membership was really starting to blossom…."

A few wry grins that were more like grimaces graced faces, but nobody chuckled. Nacedo took the opportunity to study Maria. She didn't seem particularly holy, definitely not the first human he would have chosen to inhabit the soul of a religious icon, but appearances can be misleading, he himself knew that better than anyone. He thought for a second, if she could handle Michael without backing down or being afraid, not to mention Rath, for multiple lifetimes he respected her and she must have something holy going on for her. It certainly wasn't infinite patience, he looked at him and spoke to the point, no pleasantries, "Who was I and what is happening to me?"

"You weren't part of the reincarnation plan for the Royal Four." A non answer, he'd gotten quite good at them since posing for Agent Pierce.

She looked annoyed, her lips forming into a harsh pout. "That didn't answer my question. Now answer it, I'm not under your protection so I deserve to know."

He looked over at Michael and understood that she may not be under his protection, but she was definitely under Michael's. "No, it didn't answer your question."

Max glanced at Michael who looked ready to explode. "Answer her." It was a command and Nacedo, whether he liked it or not, was bound to obey.

"I believe you were one of the Chosen, Qaelia, more commonly known as Q." Still just the basic truths, the less they knew the safer they would be.

Maria interrupted, "What's a Chosen-thingy?"

"A holy being sent from the Gods to serve Antar: no birth, unique powers and always a needed message."

Hmmmm, it was Liz this time dying of curiosity. "What was her message?"

Michael was trying to remember, it was important in the last life and he knew that message carried over to this one. It would carry big changes indeed. A memory was rising and he leaned against a locker, locking his legs and looking off at nothing in particular, letting it come.

…

Rath leaned his hands heavily on the back of the chair he was supposed to be sitting in, looking around at Zan's worried face. He didn't want to be here, he wanted today finished with and to be as far away from this temple as he could possibly get.

"Sit down, and stop acting like a caged animal." Zan hissed at him out of the corner of his mouth as the head prophet talked about the discovery of the Granolith.

He ignored his king, instead straightening up and shifting his weight, his eyes drifting to the door again. When were the women going to arrive so that they could get this blessing over with? He was still so worked up from the battle earlier and the events in the Granolith that he couldn't stay still, his body almost bouncing with energy.

"Rath-" He glanced up, his attention snapping back to the table at his name, his eyes over to the head of the council, Jetar. "Any news on that new rebel leader out west?"

He opened his mouth to answer when the door burst open behind him. He swung around, knife already in his hand, only to see Kivar carrying her. Her; the person responsible for his raging emotions and lack of focus. But she didn't look how she had this morning, glowing, strong, instead she looked broken. She looked like a small broken doll, endless tear tracks across the once beautifully painted face. His throat constricted as Kivar half shoved him out of the way, putting her down in chair he'd been leaning on.

"What is the meaning of this? You barbarian, what have you done to her?" The Granal rose, confusion and anger blossoming across his face as he stared at her then shifted his glare to Kivar. Kivar took a step forward, restrained only by Rath's iron grip on his arm. This wasn't the time for Kivar to lose it over the old race terms. Gods, how Rath wanted a reason to kill the man who'd so purposefully and carefully whittled away at her soul, caging it.

She looked around the room, her eyes catching all of theirs in turn, letting them see the echoes of the horror in her soul. "I have my message."

The room froze, all movement gone, stilling into nothingness. With four words she'd been able to leave a room full of the greatest men in Antar speechless, frozen and waiting. His heart sped up, racing in his chest and he knew, knew with every ounce of him that it would change his future. That her words would set him on a path he'd never expected, never wanted.

"The prophecy has been misread and the mistake will ruin Antar." Her words were urgent, full of pain at a future that had left her soul twisted and bleeding. Her eyes still seeing some horror as if on repeat.

The room reverberated with silence and Rath swallowed, the only one with enough courage to face her words. His words were sharp, more of an order than a question. "What prophecy?"

Her eyes swung to his and he suddenly wanted to be leaning against something. Her gaze was like a vortex, drawing him in, eating him alive, binding him. "The one binding your engagement."

He slit his wrist as she wound the words into a melody, repeating the damned prophecy. He let the familiar influx of ice coat his insides as he felt the blood trickle down his hand and it felt good, calming and he could finally look away from her, breaking her gaze. His engagement, the one bound in duty and blood, not any sort of affection.

"What part?" Zan asked, his voice tight and high, his thoughts with his own happy marriage.

She trembled, changing back from a priestess to scared child. "That's all I know, my lords. That destiny will be the downfall of the reign of Zan."

He looked over at Zan, their eyes meeting, questions rising all around them. He had to know, to know that this was real and not just a figment of her imagination. "I want proof."

She looked at him, startled, almost hurt that he wouldn't believe her. He didn't care, he still had to know. There were murmurs of agreement around the room. "Do you have the tattoo?"

She looked up at her Granal's harsh words, her voice a quiver. "I don't know."

He merely nodded his shock too great to be cruel, the words only disturbed, "Go wash your face and we'll see."

She rose, and on shaky legs she fled the room. "What do we do if it's true?"

All of the eyes turned slowly to Zan. Zan glanced to him for a moment, but found no answers so his eyes slipped over to his councilor, to Jetar. A slight shake of the head, a no. Zan's words were careful, slow. "We do nothing until the political climate is more stable."

Murmurs around the room, outrage in the prophet's voice whom opposed them, "You would just ignore a message from the Gods?"

Zan glared back, his stubborn gaze locking. "And what would you have me do? Destroy the tenuous peace with the Skylons by breaking Rath's engagement? He's a quarter and they would only see it as an affront to their race and a reason to go to arms. Would you have me annul my marriage to Teja and send her back to Wundar in disgrace? That would destroy any allies we have in this system. And for what? A garbled message that tells us nothing."

The head prophet looked away anger burning in his gaze and Jetar endorsed his king, "A wise decision, Sire. We all must make sacrifices for peace, even the Gods."

Zan nodded but turned to him. His hold, his ideas still stronger than Jetar's in the king's eyes, "What do you recommend, Rath?"

Rath took a moment to think about it, to weigh the different pieces in this game. "Move her to the castle; say it is to promote a closer relationship between the king and Gods. It will buy us time to figure out what the message means before it gets out to the general population and wreaks havoc. We can have the prophecy analyzed from all of the angles and see where we might have misinterpreted it."

"You're not taking one of my Chosen without my consent." The Granal's voice was chilly, affronted. His shock had worn off, his harsh personality settling back in.

Jetar was the one who answered, years on the council giving him the bargaining skills, "We'll hold an extra festival in honor of the Granolith."

The Granal thought about it, greed playing across his face even as he argued for more, falsely simpering. "How do I know she'll be kept safe at your castle? Q is very precious to us and has never lived anywhere but the temple."

Rath seethed at the comment, it was plain to see that he detested the girl. "She'll be under my protection and anything that can get past me has Antar doomed anyway."

The Granal snorted at the confidence in his voice, not realizing that it wasn't confidence, that it was the basic truth. He was the best of the best, the last defense. "And she'll be out of your way."

Jetar shot him a glare from across the table, warning him not to antagonize the Granal. "We'll increase the First Order's personal funding."

"Done." The Granal was smiling. She'd been sold for a shilling, and disgust rankled in Rath.

A knock on the door had Kivar pulling it open a mere moment later. She came back in, her steps stronger and steadier as she approached the table. They all looked to her face at the wet tendrils clinging to the sides and at the bright, shining tattoo on the top of her right cheekbone. She looked older somehow, not the child that he'd held in the morning, now she was a woman looking back at him out of tempered eyes.

Rath let his breath escape, it was done then: she would be in his life, under his protection whether he wanted it or not.

…..

Nacedo was quiet, he wasn't going to answer Liz's question. Michael looked at Maria, straightening up from his locker with a small shake of his head. Michael held Maria's eyes, unable to look away as he let the bomb drop. "Her message was that Destiny would be our downfall."

Max let out a strangled breath: his eyes meeting Tess' equally shocked ones. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest, relief blossoming there as he turned from Tess to Liz. He smiled tentatively at her and his heart soared when she smiled tentatively back. There was still a lot between them to work out, but a major obstacle, maybe the only one that really mattered had been removed.

It was Tess who pushed up from where she was sitting, still looking utterly shocked, as if her life had just been uprooted. She turned huge blue eyes onto Nacedo realizing her life up to this point had been a lie. She was raised with the expectation of a fairy tale: of Max being her everything, her savior from Nacedo's coldness, her protector and her lover. She didn't know what to do now, didn't know anything apparently, so she sat back down as abruptly as she'd stood. It was too much.

Maria was thinking, which most people tended to see as a bad sign, but she was thinking all the same. "Why didn't they listen, I mean if I was so freaking holy why didn't they listen to me and prevent the war?"

It was a valid question and everyone saw her point, it honestly made no sense. As if synchronized all their eyes turned to Nacedo who was shifting his weight the tiniest bit. His eyes glanced towards Max, an unreadable accusation and with the slightest amount of blame. "Politics are never that simple."

Michael shifted, scratching his eyebrow, trying to put the little he saw together with his own unwavering, piercing glance at Max. "There was political unrest, I think, and allowing the message out before it was understood could have made it worse." He made a snorting noise, his eyes going back to Maria. "It wasn't too hard to convince your First Order to basically sell you to the Royals though."

Nacedo looked at the shell-shocked teens and wanted to make a getaway before the inevitable destiny grilling session began, before more questions he didn't want answered came up. There was too much at risk. "I've got to go do another check in with the disassembling Special Unit and Congresswoman Whitaker."

He was through the door before they had time to protest. Tess watched him go in silence. She was deeply shaken. What do you do when your meant to be isn't meant to be after all? Tess burst back up and all but ran from the room, "I need to go sort some things out."

She walked to the park and selected a bench in the shade. She was confused and hurt that Nacedo, the closest thing she had to family, had used her as a pawn her whole life. He'd made deals with Kivar that used her as bait. Tess wanted a life, a life of her own choice not cold-blooded Nacedo's, not boring control-freak Max's, but hers. Yes, she'd loved Max once, she had the blurry memories to prove it but that was a different time and a different place and according to this new information it had gotten her killed. No more using Max Evans as her security blanket. Tess was ready to break her cycle of existence and really start living. She would start with making amends, beginning with Liz and Max, she'd make sure they were together if it killed her.

….

The Skins were all present at their debriefing meeting. Nicholas looked them over one by one, assessing them and assigning orders. "Kivar wants us to turn the Royal Four against each other, separate them from the humans as well. Rath is of paramount importance, our main concern. Courtney keep him and his blonde pet human apart. Don't kill him, or her, merely toy with him. Anyone come up with any new reconnaissance information?"

Garth grinned, "Well if Rath didn't have any alien DNA he would certainly accused of being a stalker. He regularly checks on the Evans' house and can be sure to be outside his waitress window almost every night. He watches her and if she walks home from anywhere, like the Crashdown, he follows her. It's pretty creepy and she notices sometimes. Never sees him, but seems to feel the eyes. Guess that's love?"

Courtney was outraged: he shouldn't be that involved or concerned about her. Rath wouldn't have let himself be panting after a female. Rath should be focused on getting back to Antar and winning the war, she'd have to distract him. Break his addiction of that snippety Maria girl. She would make sure he got his priorities straight and wasn't lusting after a mere human. Well, a human with a past involvement with him. Courtney reasoned if his past involvement with Vilandra turned him off Maria's should do the same. Courtney was so involved in trying to convince herself that Michael was deluded she nearly missed the elaboration on her orders.

"Courtney, focus on Rath. Befriend him, do whatever it takes but keep him and Maria apart. Lie, use your powers, use your looks, just do it." Nicholas' voice was sharp, but not as sharp as his eyes in her direction. He was already plotting, that devious mind of his never turning off. She smiled: it was the perfect assignment for her, especially with wanting Rath to lead. Of course the other skins didn't now about her "Rath following and wishing Kivar was dead ways", but she liked it that way.

Nicholas's little mind was busy plotting and scheming away on other topics now. "Whitaker, pump your human intern, Liz, for information. Garth follow the shapeshifter, he's sneaky. I'll personally work on Vilandra, informing her of her betrayal in the past. It will do wonders to screw up her psyche." He grinned nastily before continuing, old hurts having shifted to something else entirely. She'd wanted Kivar in the end and not him and what a mistake she'd made. "Ida, follow the Queen, she's the wildcard."

"What about Zan?" Vanessa Whitaker queried.

"He's of no consequence, he's a puppet, just like last time. We merely manipulate the strings of his emotions and he'll do whatever we want him to. He's so very _very_ predictable."

…..

"OK my Czechoslovakian and human friends alike it is time to vacate the break room so I can change for my shift." Maria announced at the Crashdown whilst making shooing motions. Everyone got up and dispersed, thankful for the dismissal. Somewhere along the line Liz's parents had accepted the strange gatherings in the backroom of their restaurant, reasoning it was safer than not knowing where their daughter was.

"Work?" Michael was being particularly dense today, though his furrowed brow was quite attractive.

"Yeah," chuckle, "Feeding alien themed grease to the truth seeking masses for tips. I do it a lot, Spaceboy you work in the kitchen…" He still looked disconcerted, she was starting to get annoyed and her good humor was quickly becoming scarce.

"You're not working today." His voice was adamant.

"Yes I am, see right here on the schedule." What was his problem, today? Maria watched as his eyes fixed on a spot in the middle of the floor, her near death spot. She pushed that thought resolutely away, bolstering her resolve. She would not be ruined by that experience, she would not be afraid.

"No, you're not. Maria, it isn't safe… You almost died two days ago. I won't let you. We'll tell Mr. Parker you're sick." His eyes hadn't left the spot, Maria smiled softly. He may have commitment issues, but he cared.

"Michael, that's sweet, but I need the money to help my mom with rent and I'm fine. I want to work." What went unsaid was, 'I need to work, I need to do something to keep myself sane because if I don't I'll surely lose it.' He heard what she didn't say: they always communicated best without words. She reached for her locker.

"No," his hand slammed her locker shut, "You're not working, that's final. Go get some rest with the others. Go see Liz." She heard what he didn't say, 'I'm worried and I'm scared, I can't bear you being where you almost died. Where I failed to protect you.' Neither were budging despite understanding.

"Michael," her voice was taking on a warning tone when the back door opened and Courtney walked in to see Michael, hand still holding Maria's locker shut, leaning over Maria with his 'I'm not budging on this no matter how much you wheedle' expression intact. Maria was pretty much underneath Michael glaring up at him with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. Courtney read the tension in the air, physical, emotional and sexual. She grinned, a perfect time to start her plan.

"Am I interrupting something, Mikey G?"

Maria, still angry turned on her like a caged animal. "Courtney you're not working today. Why are you here?"

Whoa, little Miss Chosen was getting snippety, harsh. "I forgot my cell phone. You're a little uptight ya know, and taking it out on Mikey G here isn't very nice." As she talked she moved up to Michael and patted him on his shoulder with a wink.

Before Maria could respond, or explode, Michael pinched her and jumped in. "You'll have to cut Maria some slack, Courtney. She's been feeling ill and should be getting some rest."

_Yeah, I bet you have, Maria_. Courtney's thoughts were silent but her countenance betrayed her inside knowledge. In a fake concerned voice, with a spiteful undertone, she questioned. "Oh why aren't you feeling well?"

Maria's eyes met hers and whatever Maria saw in her gaze caused Maria's eyes to narrow, lips purse, shoulders tense and goosebumps to break out on her skin. Michael looked from Maria's raised hackles, to where she almost died and back to Courtney. He knew something was up. Michael also knew that Maria was about to sarcastically combust and say something along the lines of 'oh nothing major just an attempt on my life. It puts one slightly out of sorts.' And she would try and pass it off as a joke. Her mouth opened and Michael cut her off with a pinch to her back, "Courtney since you're here would you cover Maria's shift so I don't kill her and she gets her rest? We haven't really worked together yet..."

Michael knew exactly what he was doing, Courtney wanted to jump his bones and she'd take the bait to spend some time with him. It would keep Maria safe and away from him giving them both time to sort stuff out with out a big alien themed fight in an alien themed diner. It would push Maria away and give him a chance to investigate Courtney. Knowing his reasons didn't mean it hurt any less when Maria's hurt, accusatory eyes landed on him. Having reasons didn't lessen his pain at the betrayal in her eyes any. But he was Michael Guerin and he was used to being a disappointment to everyone so he would bear the pain in silence. He would lock it away with the rest of his pain and throw away the key. He was so absorbed in thinking of how he was hurting Maria by protecting her that he barely heard, as if from a distance, Courtney agreeing to cover Maria's shift in some glib fashion. He came crashing back, always crashing for him, never a smooth descent to reality, when Maria shoved past him up to Liz's. He looked at Courtney's smiling, smug face and resigned himself to an afternoon of getting hit on by the wrong blonde waitress.

…

Maria stomped upstairs to Liz's room where Liz and Alex were sitting on the bed laughing about something or other. She'd been doing a pretty good job so far of avoiding her sudden past, a great job of avoiding reality by pretending it was a dream and a fantastic job of avoiding remembering her near death experience. Then along comes Michael, whose namesake means Bringer of Glory, more like Bringer of Reality, and he throws it in her face, flirts with Courtney and brings reality crashing down. Always a crash with her and Michael, always explosions, nothing was ever sweet and gentle with their relationship. They weren't like Liz and Max, separate but flowing in tandem like earth and water. No she and Michael were like the yin and the yang, opposites but they fit so well together. She reconsidered: they weren't the yin and the yang because they weren't complete opposites. They were actually quite similar; using defense mechanisms to keep others out and reality away, both ruled by their passions, act first and think later. No, they were like fire and ice, she burning brightly, making a first impression and always ready to burn whoever got to close. He was like ice, using his coldness to be unapproachable, pushing people away with a freaky attitude and a threat of frostbite. Cold could harm humans just as much as fire. Like fire and ice their relationship was always volatile; no matter when they meet one will always get hurt and lose part of their shell. Michael's melting away and her flame being tamed. Yes, they could work in tandem, her melting his ice into water; water that threatens her fire, her control. Yes, they were at each other's mercy. This Maria realized in a flash as quick as lightening when he turned to Courtney wounding her. It brought her Teflon shield crashing down so now she stood looking at her two best friends in the eyes. She burst into tears.

In a flash Maria was ensconced in a tight 3 way hug of Liz and Alex crushing her. Liz was making soothing noises urging her to let it all out and Alex comfortingly rubbing her back. Her sobs shook all three of them, Maria cried not only her sudden life upheaval but for all their losses of innocence, human and alien alike, for one fateful day two September s in a row that shook their fragile worlds.

She hiccupped and barely got out, "Lizzie I'm so confused and scared. It's all so different" sniffle "Suddenly I've got this whole past life thing with Michael. I mean me and Michael, you and Max I could understand it if it was you since Max has loved you since elementary school but me? I'm not special. I can't handle this," she was beginning to hyperventilate now "I almost died. Oh my god, I almost died, why! WHY! Because of aliens! How weird is that…you almost died saved by an alien. Not saved by a bell like it should be." Hysterical giggle "I get stabbed, (Stabbed Alex! Stabbed!) and then suddenly I'm like, what alien-reincarnated human girl?" She was really hyperventilating now, "What if I'm not human? I'm reincarnated I mean my mom has all these metaphysical books on reincarnation but none (I mean none!)" wild hand gestures "mention ALIENS! OR alien reincarnated humans…"

Alex shook her, his voice was gentle. The kind of voice he'd use to calm a wild animal. "It's a little late to be flipping out about knowing aliens exist, Maria."

She ignored him, going on as if she didn't hear him. Perhaps she didn't over her hysteria. "Then, then I was some sort of Holy individual, not Maria DeLuca, am I still Maria DeLuca or am I this Q dead person? What if I'm a dead person?" Liz shoved the bottle of cypress oil under Maria's nose, Maria inhaled. "and now I've got these weird flashes floating around my brain and its like a puzzle with all these missing pieces. And a puzzle with Michael who's probably sucking Courtney's face right now." Sob. "I almost died, I was stabbed (Stabbed! Alex, Stabbed!)"

Alex clamped his hand over her mouth, "Ok your babbling has reached full circle and is now on to repetitions. So we're going calm down and have a nice chat."

He kept his hand over her mouth and rubbed her back until the wild animal look and hysteria left her eyes. She began to look more like herself. "Can I take my hand off your mouth yet? Are you in control, girl?"

She nodded, he removed his hand. She gave a sheepish grin, "I really flipped out didn't I?"

"Nothing we didn't expect from you Maria. You lasted longer than I expected you to." Liz's voice was gentle and she gave Maria a soft hug.

Liz picked up the ice cream that she had abandoned when Maria had her breakdown and handed Maria a spoon. Maria gave her a grateful smile. "I love you guys."

"Ok, girlfriend so what do you wanna talk about."

"So these flashes I'm getting.. I get the sense he kidnapped me last time too. I think we had an affair and it was forbidden…" her voice trailed off and a slightly melancholy looked graced her face.

Alex attempted humor, "Maybe kidnapping is the only way he can pick up girls?"

It worked, both girls grinned and in unison pelted him with pillows. They would be alright: they'd get each other through this. Though even while hitting Alex with a pillow, the melancholy look didn't quite leave Maria's eyes. The pillows eventually settled and Maria, still half lost in her own thoughts, but wanting to be fully present turned on Liz with an eyebrow wiggle. "So now that Destiny is kaput….."

Liz smoothed her blouse in an attempt to appear calm, "I think we've got too much going on to think about that."

Maria shared a glance with Alex, pressing on, "So your mind hasn't gone to what that means for you and Max?"

Liz looked down at the bedspread, tracing the floral pattern, her voice softer and more raw than Maria had heard in a long time. "How could it not?" She glanced up, willing Maria to understand, "I think about him every day. Every day, all the time."

Maria nodded in understanding, but Alex did too. He wasn't without his own long-standing crush, but pushed that aside. "I would lay money that Max is thinking about it too."

Liz's smile was soft, but her worry sincere. "But…but what if he really did love her last time, nobody said anything about problems in their marriage?"

Maria pursed her lips, digging into herself. She'd been friends with Tess last time, known how she felt about her husband and a soft high note in her soul whispered of another Tess had loved too, long before Max, but irreplaceable. All she could offer Liz was, "It's not the same. Same souls, different lives and different personalities." Her face screwed in concentration, her eyes darkening a touch, but it remained out of reach. "…They weren't bound the way Rath and I were? They are free of those ties."

Liz and Alex watched her eyes lighten back to green in silence, wondering if they would always have to share their best friend with this other who now seemed to wake on accord. Even unsure how she felt about it, Liz's heart soared at the words.

….

Fifteen minutes to go, fifteen minutes and 35 seconds until Michael Guerin's shift was over. Let God have mercy on his weary soul. He was exhausted, hot and sweaty, aggravated beyond all sense to the point where he was contemplating quitting, guilt ridden and horny. Yes, he was disgusted with his body but it had been a long, lonely summer and having Maria so near in the break room hadn't helped any. Inhaling her spicy ginger and cinnamon-laced perfume combined with her floral shampoo, sweet and spicy, had nearly driven him over the edge as they argued. Arguing was a ritual for them and it never ceased to excite him. But Maria was three hours and 46 minutes long gone, which was good for his ideas of not endangering her but hard for his present condition. He was annoyed when sparked from his thoughts, wishes of getting off early and not thinking of Maria, by Courtney. "Mikey G is my Will Smith ready yet?"

Michael took a second to glare at her, usually the glare silenced anyone except Maria. It seemed to have no effect on her. "Courtney you gave me that order 2 minutes ago."

She was leaning on the order window, almost all the way through, "Aww, I'm sorry. I'm just ready to get off. You look so tired and tense. I'll help you relax."

She flipped her hair suggestively and batted her eyes at him. 13 minutes and three seconds to go, he could make it, he really could make it with out throttling her. 'What do you want from me, Courtney?" _I know this is something more than it seems_' his thoughts were silent as was his response to her offer. He broke the staring contest. "Order up."

Michael had forty-seven seconds alone before she was back again with 12 minutes and 6 seconds till he got off work. He suppressed the urge to groan. "Come over to my place after work, Michael."

"I'm tired, give me one good reason too." It was almost a bark.

It was issued as a challenge: it would make her or break her in his eyes. This could be her trump move or get her killed. It was her move. She smiled slowly at him, "Because it will get your mind off Maria."

Michael looked at her steadily for a moment considering. He saw fear flash in her eyes. In that moment Courtney saw Rath as he once was in all his glory, the same look she'd seen him give when deciding whether to kill someone or not. It was a calculating and cold look. It made her regret her words, her honesty. She hadn't wanted to use Maria's name to get him to her house but it seemed like the best option. Rath had always appreciated truth. She was terrified but squashed it, she wanted to be on his side. One of her reasons was she definitely didn't want to be against him.

His head tilted to the side, sizing her up one last time. "OK, let's go."

She breathed a sigh of relief. Alive and going somewhere private with Rath again. What better way was there to live?

Michael was out of the Crashdown with 10 minutes and 43 seconds left on his shift. Early and not obsessing about Maria. Objective reached.

….

Kyle was sitting in a flying saucer shaped booth in the corner of the Crashdown. He was eating a Sigourney Weaver burger with a Martian's Blood shake on the side. There was no better place to contemplate the current alien invasion than in an alien themed diner with an actual alien cooking your food. Kyle appreciated the irony of it. Actually he appreciated a lot of things lately. Like his life, for example.

Buddha was helping, he was still fairly freaked out by the whole aliens are among us thing but he was dealing. He had to. He'd been initiated into a secret society he hadn't wanted. Though it did give his life more meaning that football, rifle shooting and scoring with girls in the back of trucks. His thoughts drifted to Maria.. if his life had more meaning from a near death experience what did hers have? He didn't have answers to that and doubted Buddha did either. '_If I needed Buddha to cope what will flighty, over-active imagination DeLuca need?' Somehow he doubted Buddha could calm her down. Picking at his fries his eyes glanced over to Michael. 'Bingo was his name-o. Buddha is go with the flow but Michael is do what I say and do it now. A firm hand, yeah, he was what Maria DeLuca needed.' _Kyle had never been big on personal conversations, always thinking that if you had to have a conversation with yourself you were a sad soul indeed. Since meeting aliens, his views on the subject had changed drastically. So talking to himself, mentally of course, didn't bother him the way it once would have.

Kyle had never really liked or disliked Michael. He'd always thought Michael was a cool guy, good at sports, didn't say much. Cool but kind of freaky. Coach had tried to get Guerin to join the football team freshman year. Michael had stared at him and said, "I don't do teams." It had scared Coach, which impressed Kyle. Cold and intimidating, Michael Guerin in two words. Because of these two words Kyle, and everyone else, had pretty much left Michael alone since elementary. Kyle personally after learning Michael didn't trash talk because he didn't have to. 5th grade had been a rough year. Once or twice since then Kyle had been jealous of Michael's independent devil may care, rebel attitude and the way he didn't care about fitting in. Kyle had lived his life to fit in. But only had he been jealous once or twice because Kyle knew he had it better, never as much until this summer.

Since joining the alien conspiracy Kyle and Michael had done some minor male bonding. Watched a few hockey games and played poker a few times but the weren't exactly friends. Michael didn't let people in and Kyle didn't want to be let in. Kyle's old friends just seemed less relatable now.

Kyle was still staring at Michael and the new blonde girl, Courtney or whatever her name was, when Michael threw down his apron and walked out with her. Kyle glanced at the clock. Michael was off early. Something was up. He got up, threw some change on the booth and followed them.

….

Maria was emotionally drained from her outburst at Liz's. She resolved to take a nap when she got home. With her intentions firmly in mind she pulled the Jetta into the driveway. Unlocking the door and entering she yawned as she shut the door behind her. When her yawn ended Maria stretched, pulling her arms above her head causing her shirt to ride up and her back to pop just as her mom entered the room.

"Maria, honey. What's that on your stomach? Did you get a tattoo…? Oh my baby got a tattoo!" All the while her mother was starting to wring her hands and was about to burst into full babble mode. Maria smiled at her mother.

"Relax mom, its temporary. Liz and I got bored last night so we put temp-o-rar-y tattoos on." It bothered Maria that it was getting so easy to lie to her mother. She hadn't been at Liz's the night before but they'd all been at Michael's. Her mother looked at her for a moment, eyes narrowing then accepted Maria's explanation. She may or may not have believed it, but she accepted it. Life could be easier with blinders on.

"Ah, to be a teenager. Just make sure your teenage rebellion doesn't extend beyond temporary tattoos, ok?" Seeing Maria nod she continued on, "Now y'all must have had a long night you look awfully pale. So go take a nap, we can't have you getting sick with school starting tomorrow."

"Ok, Mom." For once they agreed on something. With one last smile Maria went to her room kicked off her shoes and plopped down onto the bed. She fell asleep rapidly, falling into dreams that were hers and weren't, to dreams she wasn't supposed to remember.

…

It was her own muffled screams that woke her, bringing her from the nightmare into wakefulness still engulfed in a thick, choking panic. Blackness in front of her, below and all around, something hard underneath and warmth at her back. She struggled blindly against the person holding her, restraining her midsection and one hand clamped over her mouth. The voice was low by her ear, "Shut up. Do you want them to find us?"

Rath, her brain supplied foggily: Rath of Antar. Her screams stopped as abruptly as they began, changing into huge gasps of air, she reached up and pulled at his hand. He didn't release it, "Are you really done?"

"Yes." It was hoarse and muffled by his hand, but he seemed to understand, his hand dropping away. He kept his other arm around her waist, looser now as he leaned back against the trunk of the tree, as she reached up with shaky hands to rub her face. Gods, that had been a bad one. In front of Rath too, of all the people in Antar he was one of the last she'd want to know she still had nightmares like a small child.

"That happen a lot?" His voice was casual, but Q could feel his eyes digging into her back and she was suddenly glad of the near complete darkness they were in. She didn't want him to see her face, she'd seen how brutal she looked after one of these often enough in the mirror at the temple. Huge, wild eyes, no color and hands that would shake for hours.

"Yes." It was an automatic response, she still didn't feel like herself yet, panic was still clawing around the edges of her mind. It wasn't as thick now, but still disorienting, still filled with images from her dream. The icy water rushing her lungs as the hands held her under, the chains around her wrists and the cold wall at her back, and the screams. The never ending screams that always filled her head at the end.

She rubbed her face again, resolutely trying to push the images away, to still the wild shaking in her body. There was no Arhal or Jonreh here to comfort her, to share the ritual that always helped the most. The only thing that helped. Her voice was still hoarse, but surprisingly young sounding. "Will you pray with me?... It helps."

"No." There was no softness in his explanation, just rejection. It hit her like a harsh slap and everything was too much for her state: seeing someone die, this horrible trek through the freezing, wet woods, the nightmare that would never give her peace. Q swallowed, tears abruptly stinging her eyes. She made no move to stop them from falling, no motion at all to indicate she was crying. He could stare at her back all night and never know, she would never make a gasping sob, or a hiccupping breath. Her back no longer shook when she cried, instead she was a statue, tears flowing silently as she'd learned in childhood. If the Parnal caught you crying, you were punished, so she'd learned to do it quietly, unnoticed.

She made no response and the silence stretched between them. She let the emotions run through her, filling her and draining out one teardrop at a time. Helplessness, fear and panic each slowly pouring from her, calm slowly taking their place. The screams in her mind were fading, falling back to wherever they stayed when they weren't filling her nightmares.

He broke the silence first, the words softer and tinged with the undertones of an apology. "I don't pray, but I know all about nightmares."

"Do you now?" She asked, glad at the steadiness of her voice. It wasn't normal, but it wasn't the scream she was afraid it might still be.

He shifted his weight behind her, his arm tightening around her waist and pulling her into a more comfortable position than the ramrod straight back she'd had. "They're common in training, I don't think we ever had a night someone didn't wake up."

"That sounds awful." Q could see it in her mind: a long barracks with cots, a different child screaming himself awake each night.

"They made us into other nation's nightmares, it's only fair we were plagued with them too." His laugh lacked its usual harshness, he went on after a pause, his words quieter. "The partner bond... mind to mind, soul brushing soul, even dream to dream... I got to spend years with not only my nightmares, but Kivar's running through my head each night."

Her insides clenched in horror at that, at having double the nightmares she already had. She'd only heard whispers of what their training had been like, seen only glimpses of battlefields but it was enough to leave her with bad dreams. She couldn't imagine what it did to those children. She searched for words; she could sense he didn't want her pity, that it would simply end this surprisingly honest conversation. "At least they were shared, someone who could understand."

"There's that." He paused, shifting her again and she allowed him to pull her a little closer against his chest, letting her head fall against it. "I preferred Kivar's, I could always tell they were his from the start because of the green hills. …Was tonight a recurring dream?"

Dream was too soft of a word for what it was, dreams were something you held and hoped to come true. This was too real, too intense, this madness that was branded onto her soul. Past, future, she didn't know, she never wanted to find out. "For as long as I can remember. The beginning changes, but the end is always pain and screams."

"Yours or someone else's?" He asked, already having an inkling of the answer. He'd heard her screaming earlier, felt the terror-clenched muscles against him.

"Mine, forever mine." She responded with a shiver, letting weariness and exhaustion settle into her bones. She was so cold, even with his warmth at her back, she didn't think she would ever be warm again.

His hand reached up to touch her forehead, checking her temperature at her shiver. "Take comfort Q, nothing lasts for forever. Nothing."

His touch had been gentle, at odds with the certainty of his voice, the fierce assurance that everything was temporary. Q wasn't sure she agreed, things had a way of dodging your steps, of chasing you even through lifetimes. Her thoughts drifted to the prophetic words that bound her to an early death, "Nothing? Not duty? Not even a Granix?"

A soft sigh at her back, a reminder of why there were here, tied up in a tree trying to get back to the king before the council meeting. There was no comfort in his words, just weariness. "Those only last a lifetime."

"Do they?" She queried, shivering again like ice had run down her spine. Her voice was coated in bitterness this time, more of the panic receding at the familiar feeling. She loved her Gods, loved them absolutely, but sometimes she had thoughts of her own. "I'm Chosen, Rath, duty and service is all I'll ever know. Life after life….until the end of time."

His chest rumbled with a dark chuckle as he leaned his head against the tree behind him. He understood duty well, it was his life too and it would likely be his death as well. He had no idea that her death would be the same, a life lived and a death passed in duty. She stiffened against him, "You think that's funny?"

"In a sick sort of way. It's not just the military that rules lives, is it?" Rath's voice was pitched low, almost intimate, almost speculative. "I've never put much stock in your Order, perhaps I've discounted their methods."

She shivered again, this time for a completely different reason. He understood. He understood her in a way that nobody but her siblings ever had and it made her acutely aware of how she was practically lying on him. There were so many rules that governed her life, so many barriers meant to protect her from the public, so few human touches that were allowed and this…this closeness was not one of them. He misinterpreted her shiver, his hand going back to her forehead, "You're warmer than you should be. You should rest."

She didn't argue, confused by the hyper awareness and new feelings she felt blossoming in her. Instead she curled closer to him, placing her head in a more comfortable position on his chest, if she was going to get in trouble she might as well enjoy it. One of his fingers graced the edges of her hair and she smiled against him, against this new friend and started to close her eyes.

Before she her eyes drifted shut a new voice broke in, "How cute."

It was an unwanted participant who made Maria realize that she was Maria and Q's life was but a dream long past. She looked up at the figure lounging on the branch above and her ire rose, skin tingling in fear. "Who are you? Get out!"

She didn't note the hysteria in her voice, or the desperate fear that he would defile her precious memory.

He laughed, loud and carefree, but her Rath made no notice, the memory of Rath and Q fading away, leaving only Maria and this stranger. "That's better, don't you think? Aren't humans usually more hospitable to their guests? Where are your manners, darling?"

She hugged herself tightly, looking up at him. He swung his legs, carefree, looking back down at her, suddenly serious. "He fell in love with you, you know."

"I know." She conceded this much.

The stranger dropped down to her branch, handling the bobble with ease. He looked at her intently, "Not quite the same, this time around, is it?" His dark eyes pierced hers, a half smile forming on his face. "Oh, there were searing kisses, sure, but he always seems to keep his distance." A dark chuckle, "At least one of you learned something from last time."

Maria turned away as if she'd been slapped, before turning back to the nondescript boy in front of her with fire in her eyes, "You know nothing about Michael and I!"

He turned his eyes upward, glancing at the moons hanging there. "Perhaps, my Siren, but I know that he pulls Isabel closer and changes shifts to work with a different blonde waitress."

Maria's heart dropped, a sharp tightening in her chest at his words, at the truth there. Michael had spent the summer avoiding her, most of it with Isabel. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, repeating herself with less confidence this time. "You know nothing about Michael and I."

He laughed and laughed, bouncing the branch they sat on hard enough that she lost her grip and started to fall. The seed of doubt had been planted and there were no arms to catch her, but the dream was gone before she hit the ground.

….

Kivar hesitated for a long, long time before lifting the reconnaissance picture of Isabel Evans he had by his bedside table. He looked at it, his eyes glued to the tall blonde walking with her brother and Rath's incarnation. It still struck him as odd that Rath was now just a teenage boy from the trailer park, just another angry punk who had no idea why he was so angry.

His fingers hesitated over her figure, tracing the irresistible beauty she'd kept even into the next lifetime. Should he? He'd never crossed this boundary before, always keeping to his vow of leaving her to this life, this chance without knowing him. The other one, the sewer rat, had kept to destiny, no desire or dreams of Kivar himself. She believed what she was told and spent her time desperately trying to seek that other half in her Rath.

He lost the battle of temptation in a moment. If Rath was waking, why shouldn't he see if she was too? His fingers grazed her photo and he settled himself into sleep at the odd hours, hoping, that she dreamed of him.

She didn't.

Her dreams were jumbled and he watched from afar, watched her move through the high school, admired and untouched. Watched her feel the heat of a dark haired boy's gaze, turn and give him a smile back that caused him to fumble his books. She hid her chuckle well, "Hi Alex."

"Hi, Isa-bel," His voice cracked part way through and he reddened. She smiled wider, though more tentatively. This was not just another a boy, just another tool to ruling Roswell High. This was a boy who could possibly matter.

She made no move to help him, straightening her own books instead. "Did you get the reading done for history?"

He managed his books, looking up, "Yeah, of course. You?"

She shook her head, glancing back at her crowd of impatiently waiting girls. "No, history has always bored me."

"You can borrow my notes," he offered immediately, before backtracking. "Maria does it all the time, she spends most of the class daydreaming."

Kivar let out a silent chuckle, wondering at the statement. He pulled out of the dream, allowing it to fall away before he was tempted to show her why history should matter. He would show her soon enough, her birthday perhaps. Perhaps the dark haired boy would make a nice surprise, a nice reminder of how there was only room for one man in her life.

…..

When Kyle got to Alex's he was in quite a state. He'd worked his anger up so much he could barely speak. He walked up to the window and climbed in without knocking. Alex reacted with his usual aplomb, trying to ease the tension with a joke. "Hey man I didn't know the slumber party was tonight. Did you bring the chick flicks or is Michael choosing again?"

Kyle only glared at him punching one hand hard into the other. Alex didn't know what to do so he pulled a Maria and started to babble continuing to play out his little fantasy. Alex's mind was racing a mile a minute. He knew if Michael ever heard him joke about him like this, especially in reference to girlie movies, he would be pounded. Or blasted with some alien power. The guy lived by heavy metal and wouldn't want his name connected to a chick flick in any way. But what the hell, Michael wasn't here to hear him and what the hell? Besides, Alex had no clue about what was going on with Kyle. "You know Michael always chooses the sappiest movies. If he makes us watch "A Walk to Remember" one more time I'm going to hurl. Though he is better than Max, but still why do we always let Michael choose?"

Kyle cut him off. His voice was tight and his eyes angry, "Don't talk to me about him."

Alex was momentarily confused: his mind was still in the babble-induced mind fog. "Who?"

"Michael. That betraying bastard." Kyle looked ready to punch something or someone: Alex glanced nervously around his room not seeing a good target other than himself. He took a step back. Swallowing down his fear of getting beat up by Kyle, a fear left over from their younger years, he put the thought out of his mind. Alex was curious and curiosity killed the cat, which is why he (and Maria) had reasoned (at the wise age of 9) the cat had so many lives. _Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity about Michael usually ends in severe pain for the curios one. But the cat had multiple lives, as does Maria. Coincidence? I think not._ Alex was still getting rid of the babble mind fog but filed his curiosity thought away to think about later so he could fully concentrate. It also helped that Kyle's impatient glares had the ability to help clear the babble fog quicker. "Why is Michael a bastard now?"

"Because Maria almost died less than 48 hours ago and he's busy jumping Courtney's bones instead of finding out who attacked Maria."

Alex didn't hear past 'jumping Courtney's bones'.

"He what?"

"He and Courtney are getting hot and heavy." Kyle was agitated, very agitated that Alex was so terribly slow. Alex meanwhile, oblivious to Kyle's perturbation, was still processing this information. He was trying to reason it out because there was no way that Michael would do that. He thought for a second, Kyle tended to have weird ideas of practical jokes. He narrowed his eyes.

"How do you know?"

Kyle looked at him like he was a particularly slow Neanderthal, a feat for Kyle. "I saw them. What do you think? I saw her tongue going down his throat." Ewww. Way too graphic of an image. Alex winced, his imagination had just burned a particularly disturbing image into his brain forever. Then anger replaced the disgust, well not exactly replaced but covered it up.

"Where? At the Crashdown? Maria is going to be livid." Both boys' faces drained of color at the thought of Maria knowing. Alex's eyes met Kyle's and Kyle shook his head and gulped before continuing.

"No I followed Michael when he and Courtney left early. I thought there might be something alien and he was investigating her since Courtney's new in town and was working the day Maria got stabbed." Alex nodded sagely, begrudgingly impressed. He never knew Kyle thought that much. He motioned for Kyle to continue. "Anyway I hid in the bushes and heard her come onto him. Then I had to eliminate a scorpion-" Alex smothered a smile at the way that Kyle puffed out his chest at this part and Kyle's use of the word eliminate when talking about bugs. He was such a kid, "- and I look up and they're kissing. So I left and came right over here."

Alex's smile and humor fell away of they're own accord. There was nothing funny about this. Nothing funny at all about Michael hurting Maria. End of story. Michael when finding out that Maria was his lover in his last life should be talking and reuniting with Maria NOT playing tonsil hockey with Courtney. Under no circumstances was that acceptable. Alex was absolutely livid and his anger made Kyle feel justified in his own anger: and his decision to come tell Alex. He looked at Alex and stared at the hard glint that had appeared in Alex's eyes. "I won't let him hurt Maria, not one of my girls. She's been though enough because of him, because of who he is, what he is."

Kyle nodded, Maria was family and Michael wasn't. "What are we going to do about it? I want to pound him good but…."

Alex shook his head. "We're all in this together, we don't have personal lives anymore. We'll confront him. Tell Michael what's what and lay down the rules. And we're going to do it right now."

Kyle looked at Alex wondering if Alex was aware of how scrawny he really was compared to Michael. He needed to calm down a bit before the big confrontation so he didn't get squashed like the scorpion. "No, he's probably still at Courtney's. We'll wait awhile and go because I don't want to see him with her again."

Alex considered this for a minute, then slowly nodded. "OK."

Kyle grinned a sudden thought occurring to him, "'A Walk to Remember', Alex? Where did you come up with that.." he snickered.

Alex's face turned slightly pink. "Liz and Maria. They've got horrible taste in movies." He gave a Cheshire grin "While we wait we can play Alien Blast 3 on PlayStation."

"Alien Blast 3, you say?" Kyle gave a demonic grin and followed Alex out of the room.

….

When Courtney's lips collided with his it unleashed a buried memory in protest. Her lips were wrong and the memory kept pushing at him to prove it. He managed to hold himself together long enough to escape her lair and get his bike around the corner of the block before it exploded onto him. He was lost to the past.

"Will you stop that?" He asked in frustration, glaring at her. She'd hit her knees in prayer almost as soon as they'd found the Granolith. Her faith, her adulation, her joy at finding the lost relic too much to bear for him. This place wasn't holy, this place was a tragedy, he could feel it gnawing at him in the power that soaked the place. That had been hours ago and now, stuck in the religious relic he'd been drawn to find, her soft hymns were driving him insane.

Her eyes flipped up to his and the song stopped abruptly, he glared until she rose from her knees, letting wherever she'd been fade away until she was just Q. She stretched, "Sorry, this is just so exciting!"

"We're stuck." He cut to the chase, eyeing the scratched doors he'd tried to pry open with his hands, then various weapons.

"What do you mean?" She asked, shaking her head, shaking off the calmness that came from prayer.

"The door won't open. We're trapped." He motioned to the scratched doors.

She glanced at it, then back to the glowing cone in the center of the Granolith. Even she without any power in her soul could feel something there almost palaptably against her skin. This place felt like a part of her, not a bad place to be trapped. She shrugged, "It'll open eventually."

He snapped. "The council is happening now and I need to be there."

"Someone will find us." She offered to calm him, ire rising in her. He seemed to get under her skin, to unleash a person she barely knew. She wasn't a snappy person and she certainly didn't like to argue.

"Q, we're in a relic that's been lost for Gods only know how long, that we just discovered. Who do you expect to come knocking?" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, speaking to her as if she was particularly slow. His next words were sharp. "Our air supply is limited."

"Don't!" She scolded, reaching out to stop the knife he was going to try to use to pry the doors, to prevent him from damaging the Granolith further. She'd intended to let him know that the oracle knew they were stuck, but had gotten distracted. He couldn't hurt this.

"Get us out of here then." Another snap, this time coming out as an order. "If you're so holy, open the doors."

Her hands clenched into her ruined dress, unclenching in distress. Her words were equally as sharp, "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't? You're Chosen, aren't you?" He wanted to punch something, Zan wasn't ready to talk trade agreements on his own. Zan needed to know that the Zontu were trying to colonize Antar. As charming as Kivar was, nobody would believe one of his kind speaking against others of the same race. Rath needed to be there to handle the fools that ran the politics of their galaxy.

Her hands knotted into her dress again and she looked away in distress, he couldn't know. He had to know. There was no avoiding her faults now. Her voice was as harsh as bleach, "Yes and no. I was Sent, you brought me from the desert yourself, but without any of the power my siblings so easily own. I can no more open the door than you." A harsh, bitter laugh. "You happened across the wrong Chosen."

"You're the one I was told to find." His words were honest, but lacked the snap he intended. To be how she was, without power, to be helpless in a world that expected more, he couldn't imagine it. No wonder the First Order hid her away, only letting her perform at festivals and ease soldiers into the next life. Something almost like pity rose in him for her, something else rising too. He pushed the pity away, so what if she'd gotten a rough deal?

"By who?" She asked, defenses rising. She didn't want his pity, didn't care how sorry he felt for her. This reaction was why it was such a secret. In a world where she was expected to be extraordinary, she was painfully less than ordinary, helpless to even the least gifted of Antar.

"Your Gods." This time it was a snap, his arm throwing out a wild gesture. "I was told you'd help me get to the end of my vision quest and here we are."

"Glad I was of use." She pushed back bitterly, turning away, back to the glowing cone she was so drawn to. She watched the colors turn, felt the potential of power brewing in it, felt it mocking her. At least this was something for the history books.

"Aren't you even going to try?" Another snap, another push as he moved closer. He told himself he was drawn to the glowing cone, not the small figure in front of it. He didn't believe it.

She sighed, still staring into the colors, letting her hand reach out and touch the cone in longing. "What's the point? I know my limitations all too well, Rath."

She could touch the Gods in her soul, yes, but her body was a different story. No power swelled there, nor did any fill her soul the way it did Rath's or her siblings. She could brush the Gods, knew they heard what she asked even if they didn't always answer. She tried anyway, a soft call to them, a request to open the doors.

Nothing happened. "Happy now?"

"You didn't do anything." He countered, moving closer to her still.

"I asked Them. Nicely." She offered in return and in censure, still staring at the cone, wondering at it. Wondering at what would have prompted her Gods to send this harsh man to find her, wondering if this was how she died and fulfilled a prophecy.

"Not aloud you didn't, Q. That's where your power lies." His hand hovered over her shoulder. The words were confident, not encouraging. Whatever he saw in her was far greater than she saw in herself, far greater than the worth the First Order deemed her.

She humored him, letting a command fill the only blessing she could claim. "Open up."

The doors seemed to flicker, almost opening then tightening up again. Q startled, then settled, turning back to the cone, wondering how long the air supply would last. "Happy now?"

"Farther than I got." He volleyed back, his hand touching her shoulder this time. This place was affecting him, affecting them both strongly. The draw to the place, the painful visions, had been replaced with a draw to her. He wanted to touch her, to feel her in his arms, to protect her.

"Just leave me alone." She muttered embarrassed, feeling almost lightheaded at his touch.

He didn't. Instead he gave into temptation, his hand on her shoulder pulling her around, his lips dropping to hers. There was no hesitation on her part and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. She pulled back the tiniest bit in surprise and he pulled her back, falling into the sensation of her full lips against his. He drank it in, drank her in, pouring himself into the kiss over all of the barriers he put up to keep people out.

It ended abruptly, the sharp sound of doors opening causing them to jump apart. He looked at the doors then back at her, back at the girl who was raised a tentative hand to touch swollen lips. Her voice was confused, elated and shocked. "You kissed me…..Why?"

There was no answer he wanted to give, confused himself. There was no answer that would be acceptable to the First Order, to her, to anyone. He looked at her and walked out of the now open doors, escaping the Granolith and the situation.

..

Michael was back on his bike in the middle of cloudy street. It all seemed artificial, like a fake reality. He was still reeling from what he'd seen, his emotions riding over from his flash. He breathed in tasting the air, it felt so different on Earth than on Antar. His thoughts turned to the memory, their first kiss. Funny how history seems to repeat itself varying only slightly. He grinned faintly, and went to start the bike but found he couldn't because he was still shaking. Shaking form the intensity of a kiss that happened decades past. It unsettled him that she could affect him that way. It excited him but it also scared him. He calmed himself down enough to restart his bike and drive home.

…..

Isabel was jogging through the park. She stopped to take a quick breather and stretch her legs. She put her leg up on the empty bench leaning forward stretching her hamstring out when she felt something; someone. A boy was staring at her, a young teenage boy. She shook her head as if to dismiss him.

Really she was dismissing her own paranoia because she was Isabel, Queen of West Roswell and shouldn't be spooked by some freshman looking at her. It's not as if it was a new experience, she was beautiful and usually loved the eyes that followed her wherever she went. Not today though. No, today she wanted to disappear into the background and run anonymously. She needed to run, to fall into the repeating rhythm and lose herself to it. A temporary escape from her chaotic life and confusing thoughts.

She couldn't get the situation out of her head. The fact that Maria, scatterbrained babblemouth Maria, had a past life on Antar. A past life with Michael. A past life she was getting memories of. She had the answers and everything Isabel had always wanted. Isabel was used to being envied but not of envying. But she envied Maria. Sure she'd been stabbed, but the answers she got were priceless. The way Michael had looked at her and cradled her, it had brought about a vulnerability and desperation in Michael that she had never been able to touch in all the years she'd known him. She was jealous of the way Michael looked at her when he thought nobody was watching him. She was afraid that Maria would steal away her brother and that she would be alone. Always alone with nobody too look at her if she was their world. Not in this lifetime.

Isabel felt the presence again and it felt achingly familiar, her eyes looked around. Nobody in eyesight except the boy from earlier, he hadn't moved from where he was leaning against a tree staring at her. It unnerved her and that wasn't acceptable. There was already too many things going on in her life.

She let her leg down and sauntered over to the boy. She put her best "Princess Isabel" look on and gave him an icy stare, "Can I help you with anything or are you just enjoying the view?"

She expected the boy to blush and stammer, possibly mutter a few unintelligible syllables before scampering off. Of course Isabel didn't get what she expected. He laughed; laughed as though it really amused and the warmth of his laughter didn't quite run all the cold calculation out of his eyes. Isabel certainly didn't think it had been that funny. In fact she wasn't amused by his behavior at all. She was outraged that this boy would treat her that way.

His laughter died down and he looked up and down; obviously admiring her figure, which was showed off to a great extent by her running gear. He smiled, "I don't see why you're complaining, you used to revel in the eyes following you.-" Her eyes narrowed, was he some sort of stalker? He leaned closer as if sharing a secret "- It was the best part of being Royalty.-" Isabel knew she should be booking it out of there yet his voice held her captive and glued to the spot. "-You loved how their eyes followed you, worshipped you. Craved it so much you tried to recreate the sensation here, but ruling a high school just doesn't compare now does it?"

Isabel felt her voice answering against her violation "No it doesn't."

She sounded different to her own ears. Her voice was lower, more husky, the type of voice that was honey. A weapon. Something was changing in her, waking up, as if someone was rolling over in their sleep. It was unsettling and at the same time exhilarating.

"You haven't changed at all. I've missed you, Vilandra.-" His face was so close now. His hand reached out to brush her cheek. "- A little welcome back present."

It felt as though her brain was in the middle of a fireworks display. Isabel found herself on another planet staring up into a deep purple sky with 3 moons watching colors streak across the sky. It was beautiful, awe inspiring. She tightened her grip on the large hand she was holding and looked up. "Mommy, what are the colors streaking across the sky? Where are they going? Are they going to the three sisters?"

Isabel realized with a shock that she was a child of no more than six cycles. She was seeing her mother, a mother she'd been craving and waiting her entire earth life to see.

She was laughing and it was a beautiful sight. Her hair was immaculately braided and twisted back with ornaments that seemed to flutter like small fairies. Her dark eyes sparkled, matching the sky above. Her smile was easy and open, and Isabel instinctively knew she was a great beauty on their world. "They're souls of the collective. Flying around in adventures and traveling home from their adventures. Coming home to Antar."

"Will they bring me a present like Daddy does when he travels?"

Her mother lifted her up into her arms with a secret smile. "I'm sure they will. They won't forget the most beautiful little princess. Now it's time for bed, little one."

The next night there was a present on her pillow. It had a beautiful necklace with beads full of tiny shards of stones so they streaked across as different colors. A perfect imitation of the shooting stars. The note on the box said, "From the travelers to the most beautiful princess. Never forget what you love the most."

Isabel felt tears prick her eyes as the flash faded away. Her mother; she'd gotten to see her mother and she was beautiful and kind just as she'd been in the message. She was 1000 times better in reality than Isabel could have ever imagined, just as good as her current mother. And this boy had shown it to her. "Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me…." She faltered looking for his name.

"Nicholas. I've got to go now, I'll see you around."

He turned to go, and the oddness of the situation struck Isabel. "Wait? How did you do that? Are you from..?" She faltered, pointing upwards, unable to say the A word.

He grinned. "Yeah, but I'm not a threat to you. We're allies. I just want to see you happy again."

She smiled, happiness still curling in her stomach. "When will I see you again?"

"When the time is right."

He turned to go thinking, _When the time is right. When I need you again, when your part in the plan comes up._ He was pleased with how this first meeting had turned out. He'd gotten the suspicious Vilandra's trust simply by giving her what she wanted and now she was putty in his hands. _Now for the final touch._ He turned and tossed something into Isabel's startled hands.

She looked down at the necklace. It sparkled just like it had so long ago. A tear dropped down her cheek and she smiled.

…..

Maria marched into Michael's apartment without knocking. She never knocked: it wasn't something they did as a couple. Michael was lounging on the couch watching commercials. He didn't glance up, "Max, I thought you said you didn't get off till 8."

When nobody answered him he glanced up and cursed under his breath. She was trembling ad looked as if she'd been crying. Her eyes were puffy and lips pale, not a sign of raspberry lip gloss anywhere. Her hair was plastered to her face and her clothing soaked. All in all she looked pathetic and broken. Maria was just staring at him with the door still open behind her. Michael was flummoxed. He got up slowly and walked by her and shut the door. She hadn't moved, this was bad. He hesitantly put his hand on her back propelling her towards the couch. "Let's get you dried off and warmed up-" His voice was soft and she nodded at the soothing tone.

She opened her mouth to talk, her lips trembling. "We need to talk."

She looked so vulnerable with her big green eyes he nodded and grabbed the towel that had been on the floor for the past week. She was shaky as he dried her face off. A sudden thought occurred to him, she was in no condition to be driving. "How did you get here? Did you drive?"

She shook her head, little water droplets flying off in all directions. "No I walked."

Michael looked at her in disbelief then in anger. He couldn't believe her walking alone at night in the rain. His voice was quiet at first then slowly went up in volume as his anger mounted. "You walked? What were you thinking, Maria?-" He gently pushed her down onto the couch so she was sitting. "-Do you have a death wish?"

"Michael." She began.

He savagely cut her off. "No, Maria you listen to me. You can't go walking around by yourself. At night,-" higher and louder "-In the rain. God, Maria! You almost died.-" He slapped the remote away from the able in a fit of anger. "-Or do you not remember that? You were attacked. You can't risk yourself like this.-" His voice got softer but didn't lessen at all in intensity. "- I won't let you."

"Michael-" her voice was as tentative as the hand she reached out to touch his back. He didn't flinch or turn away so she took it as a good sing and continued. "-Michael, sit down-" she pulled him down on the couch next to her. "'I'm sorry."

He mumbled under his breath. Maria ignored him and let the silence fill up. They were sitting side by side on the couch, knees touching. It was one of those moments where they were communicating without words, just sending vibes to each other. He understood her fears about having a past and her fears of this life. He understood perfectly because he felt it himself, it was a rare occurrence that they were on exactly the same page. Sometimes it seemed like they were reading completely different books in different languages. Her hand reached out and took his. Whether because she needed comfort or was giving it he wasn't sure. He squeezed it back unsure. She scooted closer and leaned her head against his shoulder as if exhausted. He slipped his hand from hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, taking time to examine her face. She looked wan, lackluster and exhausted. The past 2 days had taken their toll on her. Though she appeared tired her eyes burned with a feverish intensity. He took a moment to revel in their silent communication before realizing that while it was enough for him Maria often needed words. And because she needed words he would try.

"I've had a few flashes in the past two days." His eyes were staring straight ahead as if remembering and Maria was silent next to him urging him to go on. "You heard the one earlier, but I also saw our first kiss. It was in the Granolith."

"Tell me about it, please."

He smiled at her and pulled her a little closer. "It was kind of like our first kiss here. We were stuck in the Granolith and had been for hours. You were driving me absolutely insane, again,-" she swatted his shoulder "-then you got upset, again. Then you yelled at me some more and I grabbed you and kissed you."

She snorted. "Not a very romantic first kiss, Spaceboy. Or a pretty picture."

For once he didn't argue.

"I wish I could share it with you." Staying away from her was harder than he thought. It had been so easy over summer to ignore her calls and think about mud when they worked together. So easy when their lives hadn't had to collide on a daily basis, so easy when their past was just high school kisses.

"Me too."

"Let me try? I'll try and send you a flash." He told himself it was a peace offering and something to soothe the panic from her green eyes.

He reached over and softly cupped her face running the padding of his thumbs across her cheekbones. His copper bronze eyes met her green ones and he concentrated on the connection he could feel surging in him, the memory and trying to send it through to her. He pulled up both first kisses and how he felt about them sending it down their link. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, "Anything?"

She shook her head. He looked at her and saw how much she wanted the memory, needed it to reverse her broken state. He worked on opening up, on letting her in and found that it was easier than expected, part of him eager for her. His face leaned in closer, "Anything?"

A small smile was beginning to form on her face. She shook her head. He pushed his insecurities aside for a moment as if compelled to by some other force. Maybe it was her pull on him or maybe it was something greater, he didn't know he just followed his instincts. His face was so close their noses were brushing and their breaths mingling. "Anything?"

She started to say no when the memory took them both. His feelings were her feelings, she could feel how he felt about her back then. How it started for them, his draw, the companionship he'd so rarely felt with anyone else. She could feel how he felt about her at their first kiss now. It was amazing, a total bonding of emotions. It carried over.

His lips were mere centimeters from hers, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Anything?"

He didn't wait for an answer just dropped his lips to hers. The kiss was sweet, long lost emotions still enveloping them. He pressed her back against the couch forgetting everything but her. Forgetting that he wasn't supposed to be with her, forgetting the world, forgetting Courtney. She pulled apart for air. "Something."

He smirked and kissed her again, working his hand into her hair. This was where he was supposed to be.

The door slammed open, followed shortly by a gallant shout. "Get your hands off of her!"

Kyle and Alex had arrived.

Michael pushed himself up, running a hand through his unruly hair. "What the hell?"

"I said get your hands off of her! Get away from her, you bastard!" Kyle was livid and Michael had no idea what was going on. He was manhandled off the couch and away from Maria, who started to rise.

Alex looked at Maria's peaked appearance and back at Michael and mentally blamed it on him. "Look. I don't care that you've got 30 pounds on me or...or that you can kill me with some...some twisted alien power. I will not let you treat her like that. I...I don't care that Isabel treats me like crap, but no one does that to Maria, all right? She's not just some girl!"

Alex took a few steps away.

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked hotly, shoving Kyle off of him.

Alex turned around and nailed Michael in the face. Alex hopped backwards, clutching his fist. "Ow."

Kyle piped in, forcing Michael's arm down as he was swinging a punch back at Alex. "Courtney. Or do you not remember your little lovin get together after work at her place?"

Maria, who had been sitting on the couch watching the whole time unsure of what to do suddenly felt tears wet her eyes. She looked at Michael who was staring at her with a guilt stricken look on his face, "I can't believe you. You're with her and then you show me that memory? We're done."

Michael, started towards her and Kyle used his arm and off balance state to shove him to the floor, "Maria- it's not what you think…"

He tried to get up but Kyle's foot slammed down onto his back. Smashing him back onto the floor as he looked at Maria, "It's exactly what you think."

She looked at all of them and ran out of the apartment, making it partway down the hall before bursting into sobs and sinking to the ground. Her dream was right, that stranger had been right.

….


End file.
